


Cinderhut

by drunkdragon



Category: RWBY
Genre: Angst, Cinder POV, Cinder is a good person, Mild Attempts at Humor, Modern AU, Pizza, Slice of Life, no villainy here, restaurant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-06
Updated: 2019-07-16
Packaged: 2019-10-23 08:07:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17679632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/drunkdragon/pseuds/drunkdragon
Summary: Come for the pizza, stay for the warmth. Open Monday through Saturday, 10am to 12am. Closed Sundays and some holidays.





	1. Chapter 1

If she was Italian, Cinder wanted to believe she was Sicilian. She certainly felt that she had the temper for one from that region sometimes, if the stereotypes were true. But she couldn't tell for sure. Fall was hardly an Italian last name, after all.

But she  _ was _ from New York. As in New York, New York. That had to count for something at least. With a bit of luck, she had a decent chance of being maybe third or fourth generation Italian. If she had to take an educated guess, though, she might have been Asian. But black hair wasn’t unique to just Asia and that was all she had to go off of. So maybe, in true American fashion, she was the all-around mutt of sorts.

(She was lucky enough to skip out on picking up the dreaded New Yorker accent, though, and she figured that was good enough for now.)

But Italian temper and New Yorker blood still couldn't save her from the end-of-month finances and bookkeeping of her restaurant.

She wasn't the original owner. Not by a long shot, no. But somewhere down the line, in a long road trip of self-discovery that nearly took her to the other side of the country, with a bit of inspiration and some desperation, she bought the darn place. The previous owners decided that they were tired of running the restaurant and wanted to sell the establishment, and she just a happened to have a degree in business. It just seemed like a golden opportunity, even if it put her into debt.

But the name of the place had to change. “Mad Joe’s Pizza” wasn’t the worst name and it was certainly memorable, but it left much to be desired. It had to be short and easy to remember, but names were hard as per usual. Golden Crust was too cheesy and kinda safe. The Italian Stop didn’t really capture the homey feeling of the place. In the end, she lost track of how many she tried to come up with. But what mattered was that she found one that stayed.

_ Cinderella’s Kitchen _

(Or more lovingly known as CinderHut, by both employee and patron.)

It played off of the old fairy tale - everyone knew the image of a woman working around the house. They closed iconically at the stroke of midnight, and she even had a grandfather clock installed that would only go off at that time. Of course, the restaurant was mostly empty by then, but it was still a charming touch to have in the place. Most importantly, though, it was easy to remember and build an image around. And with that, there was money to be made.

Of course, with that money came taxes and budgeting. It was nearing two in the morning, and Cinder was glad that tomorrow was a Sunday, the only day in the week where they were regularly closed. Her desk light bounced even more harshly off the edges of her laptop than usual, a testament to the long day she was having so far. But she knew that there was a can of beer in her fridge just waiting to be cracked open as a small reward for finishing it all.

With a heavy breath and blink of her eyes, she leaned back from the screen as she double checked her work. First were the overhead costs – rent, utilities, ingredient purchases, payrolls (including her own, which she was aggressively applying as much as she could to her business loan since it was almost taken care of), property taxes, things that were associated with the cost of running the restaurant. Afterward came tax deductions in the form of ‘business losses’. It was a loose term, but that was the cost of ingredients that had to be tossed, mistakes in orders, things that had to be repaired or replaced, or would have otherwise been an unexpected cost against the restaurant.

Then there was the fun part – calculating the gross income. She could see just what was the most popular good they sold, which was their two slice lunch deal. It was far from the most profitable of their offerings, but the sheer volume of orders for it was certainly a pillar that helped keep the business afloat. But then gross income impacted other tax categories, so that meant more number crunching.

At least she didn’t have to worry about tips. She didn’t even want to look at how much was left on the table, from deliveries, or other possible services. Tips were an absolute bitch to factor into taxes with.

And while a good amount of money came in through that format, she also knew what she was paying everyone else. Cinder wanted to believe that she was offering competitive wages for restaurant positions, but she knew that thirteen to fifteen and change per hour was tough to live on in this area at times.

But the numbers looked satisfactory in the end. All of the receipts matched up with the software that was tracking their purchases, and all that was left was to look at-

“... What the hell?”

The month of May was often more productive than others. With thirty one days in the month and a holiday at the end of it, there were more opportunities to receive orders, and thus a higher profit margin was expected. Cinder was sure that they had earned more money to attribute to the restaurant’s overall value, but a number smaller than she had expected was glaring back at her.

Turning to the previous month, she began to compare numbers. April might not have brought in as much income, but what was much lower were the overall costs. They didn’t have to replace one of the refrigerators, and there was an extra Monday to the current month, which meant that there was an additional cost when it came to purchasing raw ingredients. On top of that, while more orders were placed, they had a few extra days of wages to count against the restaurant. She’d have to look the payrolls to see if any hours seemed higher than usual to meet customer demand and if any adjustments needed to be done or new hires made.

Frankly, it wasn’t the worst that could have happened. The restaurant had seen a few red months here and there, and at the end of the day they were profitable. But it was still something that bothered her when she thought about it all. This just meant that June would be an important month to make sure that they had a higher profit margin. It should be doable - she highly doubted that she would have to replace  _ another _ refrigerator, after all.

What’s done was done though. Bookkeeping and finances all handled, it was time to kick back and enjoy what was left of her Sunday. Time for a cold one.

… But maybe check on the flour stocks first. There was an order of fifteen pizzas for a house party coming up, and that was one thing she did not want to be short-handed on when Monday rolled along.


	2. Chapter 2

_ Chop the tomatoes, take out the white bits and seeds, and then blend them. Put in some crushed pepper, garlic, parsley, basil, salt, and my favorite - just a tiny pinch of sugar. And then simmer it all for a good hour or so. Let the water evaporate and have everything mix and mash together. _

One hundred and fifty pounds of tomatoes, quartered and emptied of seeds, and then blended (thank god for line cooks and roma tomatoes). Three cups each of chopped parsley, minced garlic, and basil. Two cups of crushed red pepper. Two cups of salt, two cups of sugar, slowly added to the stirring mixture. Simmer in a giant vat for a total of three hours.

_ And while the sauce is simmering, it’s the perfect time to make and knead the dough and let it rise. It’s simple - flour, yeast, warm water, sugar, some salt, olive oil, and time. You don’t need anything else. _

Flour. So much flour. Four cups of it and the corresponding mix of everything else gave enough dough for two pies, but she also needed dough for calzones and breadsticks. So factoring that in, their average of a hundred and fifty whole pizza pies a day, and then fresh pasta and by-the-slice orders, she needed a ton of flour. And technically, today’s dough was made yesterday and kept chilled in the fridge. So not only did she have to try and predict how much dough was needed for the next day, she had to be ready to make more if she felt that they were going to run out sooner than expected.

(Again,  _ thank god for line cooks _ .)

Then she might let herself take a break and have a cup of coffee, watch the morning news. Maybe eat something that was made from any leftover ingredients from the night before.

And then back to work.

_ There’s something about cheese, now, and that something is how you can never go wrong with more cheese. Pizza? Cheese. Salad? Cheese. Lasagna? Cheese. And the best cheese is the one you can cut and grate yourself. _

Mozzarella. Provolone. Asiago. Shred them all and mix together to make their little cheese blend - four parts mozzarella, two parts provolone, one part Asiago. But then there’s the Parmigiano Reggiano, the real deal, that goes into its own separate container. That stuff is a controlled substance.

A little pinch of it just happens to also go on everything.

_ You have to have good ingredients to make good food. A good cook’s skills are at full display when given the best ingredients, after all. You have to check and make sure every piece is fresh. Crisp lettuce, perfect olives, fresh onions and garlic, the sweetest fruit, it goes on. _

Now it was time to prep the salad parts and pizza toppings. First check the leftover greens from the night before - first in, first out. Anything that had a date written on it from more than three days ago was tossed into the trash. Refill anything that needed refilling - lettuce, tomatoes, onions, olives, peppers, and one or two zucchinis. Cook and crumble the sausage, roast and cut up some chicken breasts, and get some bacon bits going. Slice and stack the pepperonis in little trays because that was the most popular ingredient and only a certain amount was to be used for each order.

(Have a tin or two of anchovies on hand. And maybe two cans of pineapple - one for the occasional memer and one for her regulars.)

Finally it was time for the lunch rush. The part-time line chefs would also take off while the full-time chefs would begin to assume cooking duties for the rest of their shift. Waiting and bussing staff would start to go through the tables, gathering orders, bringing out dishes, and then collecting payments. Meanwhile she would manage the backend - keep ingredients stocked, answer calls, manage the restaurant flow, and help in any areas that are lagging behind.

And after the rush was finally over, at three in the afternoon, Cinder would call an end to her day.

Well, it was kind of the end of her day. She had a habit of taking over one of the corner booths with a calzone and a glass of red wine and just watch the place. It was relaxing and it let her see who was coming in and out of the store. Who was a regular, who was coming in for the first time. Maybe even strike up a conversation with a patron or two.

Not to mention that it was fun to sit back and observe. The TV droning in the background, the smell of food, maybe just read something on her phone, it was like she didn’t have to go anywhere else. Everything she could want was in one place. And if the day was a little slow, maybe she would just stay in the booth for a little while longer.

CinderHut was an old-fashioned establishment when she first arrived. Not so old that it was falling apart and couldn't fit some modern technological upgrades, but old enough to give a it nice, vintage feel. And it was apparently from the age where the owners had their apartment built on top of the restaurant – and it was her home now.

It was a lot of work, and with the current living set up, it could be said that she never had a day off. But it was satisfying - not everyone could say that about their job. She got to regularly see the customer base, and it was easy to see how her actions had a direct impact on the final income each day.

Speaking of money, here were some of her regulars - four vastly different university girls that started appearing as a group about a year ago. Cinder wasn’t sure how they all became friends, but they were and usually made an appearance at least once a month, and for whatever reason they went missing last month. The party she catered to more than made up for their absence, but it was still a bit of a sore point. She usually made an effort to strike up a small conversation with regulars to help keep them coming back, after all.

First there was the youngest - a short brunette named Ruby, who was a second year at Beacon University. She would have been a senior in high school, but her intelligence and penchant for engineering put her on a scholarship for a mechanics degree. Then there was Yang, her older sister (somehow she had  _ blonde _ hair, Cinder didn’t ask too much about it) who wanted to be a physical therapist and part-time physical trainer. They always ordered a medium-size pie of Hawaiian, and Yang would pass off the pineapple pieces to Ruby. 

The two of them have been lifelong friends with Blake, who happened to have the last name of Belladonna, an Italian name. She also had black hair, so that gave Cinder some hope that maybe she, too, was Italian. She never admitted to anyone, but Blake was her favorite among the four, even if her preferred choice of tuna fish for a topping was strange. As an Italian (maybe), Cinder wasn’t convinced that it made sense at all. It dried out in the oven and had a distinct smell that was difficult to mask at times. But people were buying it and the ingredients kept well in the can, so there was no reason not to offer it. Just think of it as a different kind of sardine, perhaps.

Finally, there was-

“Still, glad you’re feeling better, Weiss,” Yang spoke up first. “Must have been a hell of a bug to make you skip some of your classes.”

Heiress to the Schnee Corporation, this girl probably had more money at her disposal than the entire town combined. But for whatever reason she wanted to become a doctor. Maybe to expand her father’s company into the medical field. She didn’t really push too much on the topic as that was going beyond the world of a casual conversation. As the business owner, prying too much was a terrible idea at times. 

It somehow felt fitting that, though, her preferred order was the aglio olio pasta. 

“Ugh. Don’t remind me.”

“You sure you’re gonna be okay with this place so soon though? I mean, if you had the stomach flu, shouldn’t you stick with lighter foods for now?”

Weiss took a seat and crossed her arms with a light huff. “I was doing that all last month. I’m in the mood for something that actually has flavor.”

Cinder took this as her opportunity to walk up to them. “Well, maybe you’ll actually order one of my pizzas for once then. I’m sure you won’t be disappointed.” But she put on her best smile for them instead, letting her voice carry over as playful instead of demeaning. “Hello again, girls. The usuals?”

Cue a net profit of about twenty three dollars.

* * *

The rest of the afternoon led into the evening, and soon guests would come in for dinner. It looked as though it would be a busy night, but that was a good sign.

Something, however, caught Cinder’s interest as the the four girls were leaving the restaurant. For a moment, Weiss lagged behind, letting the others know that she would catch up with them. Keeping her face pointed towards the TV screen, she watched from the side of her eye as the girl took out a sheet from the suggestion booklet. And she closed her eyes, took a breath…

And stalled. She tapped the pen against the sheet, bit her lip-

“Hey Weiss - you okay there?” Yang called out to her.

She shook her head. Another breath, and Weiss started writing. “I’ll be there soon!” Two more seconds and she was done. She took one last look and then shoved the card into the box.

As soon as the party was out of eyesight, Cinder pounced. Bussing her empty plate and glass to the kitchen, she beelined past seated guests and towards the box. Weiss and the girls were one of her most consistent patrons, and for her to leave behind feedback was worth more than gold. Undoing the clasp, she opened the top, grabbed the only sheet of paper inside, and started to make her way back to her office.

And when she finally sat down in her office, she took a good look at the card.

_ My sister is pregnant _

… What?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow! Really happy to see all the interest so far. For an AU that started off as a joke I sort of started on Tumblr, I admit that I was certainly concerned about the premise, but I'm glad you're all liking it.
> 
> Sadly this chapter is still a bit slow, but a few things are beginning to happen, and I would say that chapters 3 and 4 are probably where it will begin to pick up more steam. Hope you keep enjoying the ride though!


	3. Chapter 3

A few days later, there was another message. Cinder wasn't there to see it this time, but she had a feeling she knew who it was. The handwriting matching up was a plus, too.

_My sister doesn't know what to do_

One weeks with neither hide nor hair of Weiss, and then another card.

_My sister is scared_

Nothing was making sense. She was clearly trying to reach out for help of some kind, but why here? Why through a restaurant and not through the proper channels? And it was for her sister - what did _she_ stand to gain by trying to reach out on her behalf?

Things weren’t adding up, but she didn’t know all of the facts of the young woman’s life. She couldn’t work magic and just fix the problem, after all.

And it was driving her paranoid - she was beginning to check the box multiple times a day just in case there was another card from her.

Finally, though, enough was enough. Something needed to be done, if only to help save the rest of the feedback cards for actual feedback. Taking a look around, it must have been a bit past two in the afternoon - the time when they received the least amount of customers.

“Hey Emerald,” she called out from her booth. “Got a moment?”

The girl looked over her shoulder, scanning the dining area before heading toward her booth. She was around Weiss’ age. A little short like her, too, yet still a bit taller. But unlike the girl who seemed to ooze prim and proper, Emerald only looked close to it because she was in uniform. With red eyes and hair dyed a mint green, the two were hardly alike. Her skin was also of a darker tone, her family hailing from perhaps the Middle East. Cinder didn’t look too much at it.

What she did know about Emerald, though, was that when she first showed up for the interview two years ago, it was easy to tell that she wasn’t very well off. Everything she wore seemed to be just a size too large - most likely her mother’s. The only thing that might have actually belonged to her proper was her shoes. Her resume wasn’t impressive either - graduated from high school, no college degree.

In spite of the challenges, though, the girl knew how to talk. She struggled in the cooking department, particularly under pressure - give her enough orders and soon enough dishes with the wrong toppings were going to come out. But she had strong communication skills. Always asked what else they would like to order. Always asked if they would like dessert. Always asked if they would also like a drink. Questions that got goods moving and money into the restaurant’s pockets and tip jar.

It wasn’t long until she became the main lead for the waiting staff. If anything odd happened, she was one of the first people to take a look and try to figure out what was going on. She wasn’t at the supervisor or manager level yet, but give her another year or two and Cinder might consider it. She certainly demonstrated the potential for it, after all.

(And no, she was _not_ playing favorites. She had to do everything that any busser or waiting staff had to do - clean tables, take and bring orders, check in on and clean the restrooms, and sometimes have a chat with a customer who needed assistance. But the tip jar policy certainly helped the girl along with a few extra bucks at the end of the week.)

Emerald drew close before putting her elbow up at the top of the booth seat and leaned against it. “What’s up, boss?”

“We’ve been getting some really odd responses in our feedback box.” Cinder held up the cards. “Here, take a look.”

“Hm…” taking hold, she began to scan them over. “My sister is pregnant. My sister doesn’t know what to do. My sister is scared.” She gave a look back at her. “What makes you think I’d have a clue?”

“Shot in the dark,” she took the cards back and gently flung them onto the table. “I’m just really confused.”

“Any idea who it’s from?” Emerald leaned over. “It looks like the handwriting is all by the same person.”

She took a deep breath. “They are. It’s from Weiss.”

“Oh, the rich one out of those four really cute girls, right?”

Emerald was also pansexual. When she first disclosed that fact, Cinder didn’t really know what that meant or why she mentioned it. Still kind of didn’t know the intricacies of it, but she had enough to create a working picture. It didn’t seem to mean too much in the long run, and since it wasn’t interfering with the work she put forward, she could stay as long as she wanted.

(She did try to take more time to learn about what gender and sexuality carried in the workplace. And there was a _lot_ to go through, contrary to it's seemingly obvious nature at times.)

“That’s the one. Hard to imagine why she’d resort to this, though.”

Finally, though, the girl shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe you just have to catch her in the act and ask what’s up.”

“Yeah, but I’m not a _psychiatrist_. I sell Italian food for a living, and I’m probably not even Italian. I wouldn’t even know what to do if she did spill.”

A new voice caught their attention, and their heads turned to one of the tables where a boy was sitting. Calling him a boy wasn’t really right though as he was actually Emerald’s age, after all. The only difference was their education level. She loathed the idea of studying, but he was able to get himself started in community college. Cinder wasn’t sure what he was studying, but it seemed to be related to math. There were a lot of textbooks with bridges on the cover, which probably meant it was tied to physics or something. “Hey, Cinder. It’s the twins again.”

“Junior’s?” She felt her eyes roll. “I thought I made the message clear to them.”

Emerald stood up and eyed the two at the front of the restaurant. “Want me to talk to them?”

“It’s fine. I’ll handle it.” Standing up from the booth, she made her way towards the girls. And on the way she passed Mercury’s little makeshift desk.

“Can _I_ talk to them?”

Clearly one of his jokes, but she paid no real attention to it. “Finish your homework first, Mercury, and then I’ll let you start your shift.”

The walk to the front wasn’t very far, and when she got there the twins were in sight. If it weren’t for their drastic choice of clothes and differing hairstyles, she doubted she could actually tell them apart. But she knew what they were here for, and she steeled herself. “Hello girls. What can I do for you today?”

The two of them traded looks, as if scared to speak up. But soon Miltia - the one in red - opened her mouth. “Uncle Junior says we have to start paying full price.”

Cinder should have known better than expect the two of them to try and change their tune. Brushing aside a strand of hair, she cast her eyes upon the twins again. “Well, your uncle is very kind to advise that and I can understand why he would say so. However, he’s also working a case for free right now and isn’t getting paid for it. So until that ends, you’re getting the employee discount.”

Technically, she had been giving them the employee discount for far longer. But the twins and Junior were almost like extended family, almost to the point that it felt wrong to make a penny off of them. And this whole debacle, well… It was something she was getting a little tired of. Starting from maybe three or four months ago, the twins were become a regular staple in the store, always buying a pie and then asking to pay the full price.

And on a level, she couldn’t blame them. It technically wasn’t something that they deserved (the girls weren’t employees, after all), and it was a cut into her business. A few extra dollars a month didn’t seem big immediately, but if dragged over a period of time it would only get bigger and bigger. Yet with the charity case that Junior took up and being privy to that knowledge, it felt even worse to take it away.

Miltia moved to speak again. “He said you would say that and wants you to know that money is money and that it’s time for him to start repaying the favor he owes you.”

On one hand, she doubted that he really said that, but it was still annoying to consider. “Well, if he’s that adamant about it, then you can put the difference into the tip jar. I’m not going to charge you until your uncle gets the case all sorted out and won.”

The other twin was the one to speak up this time - Melanie. Unlike her sister, she seemed to prefer more whites to her clothes than reds. Same preference in jeans, though. “He said he didn’t want us to put it into the tip jar and that we had to give the money to you.”

Okay, now _that_ was a clear point in him calling her out. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back. With one deep breath, she opened them and looked at the girls. “And, technically, what is keeping me from taking whatever money you give me and just putting it in the jar?”

Miltia whipped out a familiar credit card in a flash. A little worn around the edges, but it was something she had seen on Junior back when he was a more frequent visitor. Honestly, she was more surprised that it hadn’t expired yet because he ran the card here for the first time over three years ago, but there it was in front of her. A bygone visitor from a darker time.

Cinder found herself staring at it for far longer than she intended, a frown on her lips. When she looked up at the two of them, any previous signs of confidence seemed to have vanished. “Technically, you girls are right. I hate crunching numbers when it comes to tips. And while I don’t know why Junior gave you that card, he _has_ to know that I don’t ever want to see it again. Today your pizza’s free, and for future orders you’ll be getting the employee discount until Junior’s case is settled and he’s back on a paycheck again. End of story.”

She immediately turned heel and walked away, leaving the twins at the front. And when she turned her head around, they were already heading out the door, order in hand and head tucked low. Doing her best to cast that image to the side, she sat herself back down in the booth to stare at the suggestion cards in front of her. But the two girls refused to leave her mind.

Finally, she sighed and looked up at the boy at the table, scritching and scratching away at the sheet in front of him. “Mercury, do you think I was too mean to them?”

His dark eyes looked up into hers, and for a moment Cinder was unsure if he would answer her question. “You know I’m not a very good scale for that.”

“ _Mercury_.”

“Well, if you have to know,” she could hear his eyes rolling, “I’ve seen worse.”

And that was his sign to show he wasn’t interested in talking anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and once again thank you very much for your comments! I always love reading them again and again. Anyway, I hope that this chapter was just as interesting as the others. I know that it might feel a little slow with the exposition, but this is really just setting up the arcs of sorts for the characters present and Cinder's overall relation with them.
> 
> The other thing I want to kind of touch upon is Emerald. On one hand, yes representation is great, but at the same time I was conflicted with just saying what sexuality she identifies as. It stems from something I started on tumblr and I really wanted to keep it, even though I was afraid of her becoming the token character. In the end I think I avoided it as I turned the moment into how Cinder views her relationship with Emerald - purely business with a bit of empathy at this time.
> 
> But this won't be the only time when Emerald makes an appearance. I'm not sure when or how, but I do have some things for her planned out so at least there's that. Still, I'm not really the one to judge how it came out in the end - that's your jobs as readers to let me know what you think so I can learn to get better :S
> 
> See you all for now! Sadly this is the end of the pre-written chapters so the next one might not be for a little bit, but hopefully the wait won't be long!


	4. Chapter 4

Summer was beginning to roll around, which was both a boon and a curse. Summer meant more business - families were exploring together, maybe a few tourists here and there, and some parties were going on, too. However, the flipside was that the cost of utilities went up. Fridges worked a little harder and air conditioning ran for the whole day until closing. So while the new opportunities were there, Cinder had to make sure that she was hitting enough of them to take advantage of the new season.

So of course, this meant planning specials and promotions. The average customer didn't really know what they were looking for, and so a special of the day or another easy menu choice was often required to help drive the decision making process along. After all, a customer who didn't know what they wanted wasn't a  _paying_  customer yet.

At least one thing was always easy - discounted drinks. Beer and wine, soda and juice, coffee and tea, every drink was going for cheap. Next were salads. Caesar Salad, Cobb Salad, Chef Salad, anything that felt cool enough to eat to take away the heat of the sun. Needless to say, a hot pizza wasn't always the best of deals in the summertime.

But aside from that, though, it was the first Saturday of June - the last month of the second quarter. It was time to sit and count her earnings (again), and begin to plan out some of the events and goals of the next month. Earning goals were obviously the most important. Cinderhut would cease to exist without it, after all. Then there were her own personal goals, where she tried to sit and reflect on what she herself wanted to achieve.

More importantly though (and just by a little bit!), were the goals of her employees. As a manager, her job was to manage - make sure that everyone else was doing their job and getting properly compensated for it. But she also had to make sure that they were being heard and grown into the people that they wanted to be in about five years or so.

And sure, maybe some people only saw their employment here as just that - employment. They were here for a job now and expected to be leaving later. Restaurants had a high turnover rate and thus Cinder expected that some would be this way. This was fine.

There were a few that she had concerns for, though - namely Emerald and Mercury. Two of her youngest employees at twenty and twenty-one, respectively, this was a situation that she had mixed feelings for. If they stayed behind, trying to climb up the business ladder, it was likely that she could have two very capable employees that could not only take over her role, but lead to the possibility of expansion.

But Cinder also wanted to be clear with the expectations. There was no guaranteed chance of success and the hours were long sometimes. And while they would certainly experience an increase in overall pay, she knew that there were other technical skills that they could pick up from additional schooling that would require less overall work for an equal level of pay.

She wanted to take pride in that she was the whole reason why Mercury had decided to go through community college. But she knew that she only pointed him in a constructive direction. The young man was itching for hours, and since she couldn't provide it all the time this wasn't a bad route to take.

Emerald, however, was a real concern. She hated school, and while Cinder tried to convince her that the classes at community college were not the same environment as her high school, she was simply adamant in her position. A part of it might have been the opportunity cost. Emerald didn't come from a well-off family, but in the end she didn't pry to deeply.

The most concerning part, though, was that she simply didn't seem to show any drive to take the steps to move higher in the business. It was there at first, but once she became the main lead of the waiting staff, she was slow to move on additional learning opportunities. She wasn't snapping at the chance to improve her resume and earn more. Something was holding her back, and it was bothering Cinder for the longest time.

No drive to study, no drive to move higher in the restaurant. Honestly, it kept her up some nights.

Still, that was something for her to try and worry about for another time. There was a reason why she was sitting at a booth with a tablet and pizza that had long gone cold in front of a man with orange hair and a white polo. It was time for her to sit down and look at the advertising trends and impacts Cinderhut had gone through for the past three months.

As important as it was, Cinder hated figuring out advertising. Did she spend more in hopes of reaching more people? How many of those people came into the restaurant? How many were new customers? How many were recurring ones? There were too many factors and questions that she just didn't have time to answer.

But the good news was that Roman Torchwick could. He ran a small advertising agency, having started it not long after Cinderhut first opened its doors. One day he came in and told her he could get at least one hundred new customers in the front door by the end of the month. And from there it was history. He got the customers, and he got her business.

"So first off, we're going to roll out delivery specials for July and August," he took a sip of water, eyes never leaving the page in front of him. "A lot of your revenue from previous years came from family parties and events, so it would certainly be a good selling point again."

And while Cinder knew that she should really be focusing on what Roman was talking about in front of her (and normally she did a great job at that), Emerald kept coming to mind.

"And then once August starts, we can try to capitalize on the back-to-school theme. And if I recall, our parent-student deals were a hit last year, so we can-"

There had to be something she was missing. But on the other hand, maybe she was looking into it too much. Maybe Emerald will grow out of it and start seeing the personal growth opportunities she had. Maybe-

"Hey, Cindy, you still with me?"

Blinking her eyes, she set upon him with a scowl. "You know I hate that name."

"Uh huh," he grabbed the last slice of pizza and held it in front of his face, "and I only use it when I have to. What's on your mind?"

She watched as he took a bite before turning her head to the front entrance. Emerald had the day off today and her absence felt palpable. "Just distracted, that's all. I'll figure it out soon."

He swallowed. "It's that Emerald girl, isn't it?"

In addition to being some kind of secret advertising god, Roman had a knack for reading her mind. She rolled her eyes. "What makes you think that?"

He took another bite, "Just luck, probably," his green eyes fell upon her. "Did you want to save this for another time? Or should I send you an email with your current order for you to finalize?"

She really should get this done. This was going to be the lifeblood of her restaurant for the next three months and beyond, and she needed to put in the order. In the end she shook her head a bit. Emerald might be she was interested in raising up, but there would be more opportunities later. "No, we can do it now."

With one last look over, she double checked the cost and signed her name. There - a done deal, and one that should help with the summer income. Roman would have the invoice in by the end of the week, and the first set of ads would be run.

The front door opened. And while Cinder couldn't see the person entirely from her seat at the booth, she was able to see a single white ponytail hanging from the side of her head.

Weiss.

Her amber eyes locked onto the top. Was the girl here to order something? Or perhaps-

She turned to where the suggestion box was, and Cinder sprang into action. "Roman, I have to handle this. You've got my signature - let me know if you have questions. Oh, and give me a double order on suggestion cards while you're at it."

If he said anything else, she didn't hear it. Within seconds she was at the door, and soon enough she could see Weiss. Sure enough, there was a suggestion sheet in her hands.

"Weiss!" she called out, perhaps louder than she intended to. The girl spun on her shoes, nearly dropping the sheet. "Sorry," she apologized, "didn't meant to startle you."

"No, no!" she tried to put the sheet and pen back, as if trying to hide that she had even been present. "It's fine. I'm fine. Everything's fine."

"Uh huh, and I'm the Queen of England." That was a bit of New York coming out of her. But she closed her eyes, breathed, dialed it back. "I noticed you've been offering some…" she had to be careful with language, "suggestions for the restaurant."

"So…" she gulped, "you know they're from me."

Cinder took a look around. Half of the tables were empty, but whatever was going to come out of Weiss' mouth was probably private. "Come on," she gently placed a hand on her shoulder. "What do you say we take this somewhere private?"

She made no movement, and Cinder sighed. "Look, I know that whatever you're going through with your sister is scary." Very weird thing to be scared of, but she wasn't one to judge. "But that's only because you're facing them alone. Without your friends." And finally she winked. "Besides, you've been sending in those cards for a bit now, but it won't do you any good if you can't talk about it, you know."

Weiss looked down at her feet, terrified, but eventually she nodded.

"Trust me, you'll be better when this is all done," she gave a gentle nudge of her shoulder. "Come on, let's go to my office. I'm sure I can help you out somehow."

With a gentle drag, the two started walking. Disappearing behind the small halls and into a back office, she let Weiss sit down in front of her desk and she rolled her seat over next to her. But when Cinder looked up, Weiss was still standing.

And that was when she started to have second thoughts about all of this.

She looked up at her. " _I'msosorry_ ," Weiss blurted out. "I lied."

"Excuse me?"

"My sister," her voice limped out of her throat. "She's… She's not pregnant." Her blue eyes locked onto hers. "I'm pregnant."

And then Weiss burst into tears, bawling her heart out like there was a million years worth of tears inside her.

Cinder brought a hand to her head. This was something she was absolutely not prepared to help with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the patience on this one! I had a lot of writing things come up in prompts and other things on my tumblr. Seriously - check me out over there if you want to be more up-to-date on what I'm doing. The goal is to eventually crosspost onto Ao3 and here as well, but tumblr is starting to become one of my posting lines for my non-chaptered works.
> 
> Anyway, onto the story. Yes, a few of you called the little twist there, but I don't think it was really a twist to begin with :S It was probably a little obvious, but the story isn't about the twists as it is Cinder just trying to navigate her life and her business. And while the updates might be slow, this is a lot of fun so far. So expect more in the future!
> 
> Whew. Again, sorry for the wait - I hope it was worth it. But this is where the story begins to pick up a bit and things are going to get hectic for Cinder. So look forward to it. Thanks again for sticking with the story, and I hope to see you all soon!


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